


The Weight of The World

by Katy_Kruebbe



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7755970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katy_Kruebbe/pseuds/Katy_Kruebbe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though Edward is seemingly skilled at keeping his true feelings locked away safely inside, that doesn't mean his thoughts are necessarily quiet. Could him questioning himself more thoroughly, be how he can break down his own walls?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

~Your thoughts kill you don't they?~

The words of others flow through my mind, how can they not understand? I don't deserve to be happy, I deserve pain, I only deserve to suffer. I can probably sit and ponder on every moment that led me to feel the way that I do, but even that can feel pointless at times. I can't even find many good reasons why I would deserve to complain, but what better to do on a train ride than to pity myself like a child. Even simple kindness has the ability to catch me off gaurd, I always feel like I'm bothering people with my seemingly present depression. I don't think anyone needs another person, or another thing to worry themselves with. I feel like my problems are, well, my problems alone, that I should handle them myself. Even if I can find myself lowering my gaurd long enough to actually talk to someone, I feel so bad because I know I'm putting a burden on them to try and fix me, when I know they can't. It just seems pointless for me to try and talk about how I feel, when Alphonse has it worse than i ever will.. Despite my regrets, my sorrow and shame for what has happened to Alphonse, and my many flaws, I feel it is unfair to burden anyone else with my haunting thoughts, what right do I have to disturb anyone. Why should I have the right to cry, when he can't even do that. I don't see any good reasons for why I deserve comfort, affection.. Or even something as beautiful as love. I could easily say maybe I'm just insecure, but it's so much more than that, I'm not just filled with pitiful thoughts. In a way I sometimes wish I could just sacrifice myself along with my never ending thoughts to heal all the wrong I've done, for nothing will ever make us forget our sins. I often wonder if simple kindness would still bother me, even if we never foolishly walked through God's domain. Thinking back to the days of simple fears, the kind of fears that would pale in the sight of a plate full of vegetables,  I could still remember a confusion about the subject of love. I'm sure more than anything, she thought that she had strategically hid her pain, I found myself watching as mom would frown out into the distance, it seemed her favorite spot was by the window in our kitchen. She never burdened us with what was bothering her, and we never wanted to make it worse by asking, but I would give anything to comfort her now. Mom's comfort.. The last person to really show me affection that didn't just make me flinch. It was all that bastard's fault, what did she even see in a guy like him? All I remember is the way his shadow covered us from the sunlight creeping in from front door, his back. I remember the way it smelled that morning, the day mom seemed more uneasy, and everyday after it just seemed like a nightmare on repeat. It always makes me wonder if he had left her before, and why did he never come back this time around. I shamelessly picked up this idea, that even his absence was my fault, even with my lack of memories of him. I can almost laugh at myself, I really do put alot on my own shoulders. I can tell you the makeup and build up of my body, but I cant really come up with a scientific formula for why I take responsibility for every hardship. I know it's more complicated than just hating myself as a whole, maybe my mistakes just made me all the more comfortable with being bitter with myself. I can't even imagine what kind of life I want anymore, when we were younger it was all about the normal stuff, marry someone, a house, kids. I always thought Alphonse would beat me at those things too, I didn't win much when we competed against each other. I always doubted myself, even before all my fuck ups, I always had this silent disgust, that I would magically turn into my father. A worthless man who would slowly kill a woman, not even watching as my absence drained the life away from her. It boils my blood just thinking about it, I hate the idea so much I can see myself avoiding others forever. I'm so scared to be like him I'm prepared to be alone, almost willing to blind myself from this cruel and random world. I know there is something wrong with me, the way I think, but I cant tell what's more wrong, my state of mind, or the fact that I hide it away behind a fake smile or forced determination. I am ready to throw myself whole Into anything that will fix what I've done wrong, but the idea that it has anything to do with me is preposterous. I could care less what happens to me anymore, as long as I can pay back what I've done to Alphonse. 

"Brother?" Alphonse glances over at Edward, the usual silence of the train ride always brought him down in spirits. 

Edward's self harming thoughts calm just long enough for him to look over at his younger brother, "Yeah Al?"

Alphonse could already guess that Edward was lost in his despair, but many years would prove asking would get him no direct answers, "We should be in Central soon." Small talk was all he could think to do, any attempt to comfort his brother.

"Yeah.." Edward's glance lingers at the window again, passing trees comfort noone in reality, it's just something seemingly normal people can enjoy. After all, what's a trip when it's a type of uncertainty that doesn't thrill you in anyway.

"I hope the Colonel isn't too upset about us being late by a day." Alphonse continues on in his attempts, comforting Edward was never easy, he always had trouble just saying what was wrong.

"Screw him.. Like he gets anything done either.." Edward's empty looks turns into one of annoyance at the thought of Roy Mustang.

Alphonse was the tiniest bit relieved at the annoyed expression of his older brother, atleast he wasn't staring soulessly at the window anymore, "I'm sure he won't really mind." Alphonse could only imagine what the years of heartache has done to Edward's lack of trust and bonding, in a way even Alphonse blamed himself, his thoughts weren't too off from his older brother's.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for checking out my stories! This is just kind of like how I would guess Edward feels most of the time. It most likely won't have any pairings or ships.

~A single diamond,  amongst a million grains of sand could feel so alone, it would choose to change it's name, so it could be like the rest of the grains~

Train rides always seem to drag on forever, and as much as I despise sitting around for too long, I always seem to find myself slumped over on the curb. Hopelessly stuck there, while my younger brother stands there, seemingly too afraid to disrupt whatever this even is that I'm doing. 

Alphonse finally finds something to speak up about, "Brother.. You're doing that thing again.."

I don't really look over or respond, I just let out a muffled noise as I again push my knuckles up against my cheek. Mom always scolded me for bitting at the skin inside my cheek, I've read recently it actually isn't all too good for you, but I just can't help it sometimes. I also came to notice I really do only do it when I'm anxious about something. Great, even more reasons to believe there really is something wrong with me. I hate sitting here, looking up at drifting clouds, the silence no doubt worrying Alphonse, but I always find myself creating this atmosphere. This silence. This is why everyone who actually knows me for who I am worries about me, it's why I do my best to keep an act of determination up. Not that I'm not inspired by the very sun to get Alphonse's body back, oh no it isn't that really. I think I'm just fully consumed by despair, every second that I can't control seems wasted, then what the hell am I doing sitting here? Despair seems to be something dangerous, almost deadly. I remember reading something once, “People can live weeks without food, days without water, minutes without oxygen, but not a moment without hope.” I honestly find it helpful to identify factors that contribute to despair, while also clinging to the small number of things that give me hope, however I can. As selfish as it can seem, I more often than not, feel as though all I have left is Alphonse. I wouldn't say that outloud, but I'm regrettably positive that it's true deep down. I could only imagine vocalizing that to someone like Winry, all she would do is cry. I suppose that's just how humans are, they think of how something effects them before anything else.. I can't really blame her though, I know she cares about us, and probably worries herself sick. I feel pathetic knowing that very thing, not being able to offer her any kind of peace. I can't grant her peace of mind, can I? I usually think of calling her, damn near everytime I see a phone, but what would I even say? I don't feel like I have the right to even begin trying to explain myself, the right to cause her anymore heartache. It's just, I can't help but wonder if I'm right in believing that I should leave everything behind just so I don't do anymore damage. Will my absence really make it better than it is, could anything really get any worse? I've never questioned myself in these ways, not until a few days ago. I've been feeling really low, and instead of acting out, or showing off, I've just been stuck in my own mind. Stuck in my own misery. Even questioning all my beliefs, motives, and wants, I don't see myself wanting to talk to anyone about it. Even though that's supposedly the best thing to do when you're feeling this way. I'm lately always finding myself wanting to laugh at my own thoughts, do I really think I'm that above everything? Or do I feel so below everything? Maybe it's both.. I don't want to feel like I'm the kind of person that needs and wants help, but at the same time I also feel like I don't deserve any help, from anyone.

"Ed.." Alphonse mutters, he couldn't take the silence from Edward as they sat on the curb next to the train station, "Let's just go already.."

I slowly stand up, a small sigh escapes me, "Sorry about that Al.." I stretch my arms over my chest, "We can go now.."

Alphonse raises a hand, as if he were trying to catch his own voice, he had so many questions over the years, but he has no faith asking would help.

"You alright Al?" I look up at Alphonse, deep down I knew he wanted to ask me about what's wrong, but I cant stand to have any serious conversations about myself right now.

"Y-yeah.." Alphonse lets it go, but he will never stop hoping that oneday Edward will realize he can lean on those who love, and care about him. That showing your despair is okay, that it's okay to hurt.


End file.
